Joe Coy: THEY WEIGHED SO LIGHTLY WHAT THEY GAVE

For two centuries, after the Reformation in the Sixteenth Century, the Irish people were persecuted for their loyalty to Catholicism as the British State converted to various forms of Protestantism. Harsh penal laws were enacted following the Jacobite-Williamite wars in the 1690’s. The primary purpose of these laws was to ensure that Irish Catholics remained poor, socially backward, and uneducated.

Then, after centuries of displacement, poverty and persecution, came the calamity of the Great Famine in the late 1840’s. Despite now being an intrinsic part of the United Kingdom, the British Government did little to alleviate the dire situation in Ireland due to the laissez-faire politics of the time. In the years that followed, death and emigration halved the population of the island.

Out of this dark century came the new religious congregations like the Sisters of Mercy, the Sisters of Charity, the Presentation Sisters, the Irish Christian Brothers and the Patrician Brothers. Their raison d’etre was to cater for the country’s poor and dispossessed, to look after the sick and to educate children who would otherwise remain ignorant. These congregations were founded by Irish people: Catherine McAuliffe, Nano Nagle, Mary Aikenhead, Mary Aylward and Edmund Rice among others. They recognised an urgent social need in their country at the time and responded to it.

Unlike earlier religious orders, such as the Franciscans, the Dominicans, the Poor Clares and the Carmelite Sisters, who were committed to a life of prayer behind closed doors, these new congregations were social activists. They would go out to educate, nurse and care for those in need.

Over time the mission of the new religious congregations spread throughout the country and schools, hospitals and care homes marked their progress. As the years passed, there were very few towns and villages in Ireland without a religious presence.

And all this was possible because young Irish men and women took a decision to join these new religious congregations and to dedicate their lives to this great cause. They left their homes and families to do so. They gave up the prospect of finding partners and marrying. They set aside the joy of having their own children. They took vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience and in the process sublimated their personal freedom for the greater good. Today that level of sacrifice and selflessness is beyond comprehension.

In his poem “September 1913” Yeats wrote about political patriotism – the generations who had lived and died for Irish freedom. He wrote “they were of a different kind … they weighed so lightly what they gave.” His words could equally apply to the tens of thousands of young men and women who joined religious congregations and were equally idealistic.

There must be millions of people in Ireland and elsewhere who owe a debt of gratitude to these extraordinary men and women. When asked, many people will recall an outstanding teacher or nurse or social worker who played a crucial role in their lives – that extra attention, that helping hand, that quiet encouragement.

At a time when women were regarded as the chattels of fathers, or husbands, they took power into their own hands. They worked independently of the patriarchy and the hierarchy. They were proactive in building up a social structure in Ireland that involved education (primary and secondary schools, teacher training colleges), health (hospitals and care homes) and social protection (mother and child homes, orphanages). The concept of the socialist state was a century away but here were women and men showing how it could work.

Within the context of their times, these institutions played a crucial role in Irish life because the British state, with its adherence to the Anglican Church, had no great interest in catering for its Catholic subjects. Later, after independence, the new State should have been more proactive where education and social welfare were concerned. However, it lacked the resources to provide these necessary facilities and, instead, relied on religious bodies to do so. It is all very well for modern commentators to argue that the newly independent State should have provided these services. The reality is that the 26 counties, at the time, had a very underdeveloped economy with no natural resources, no commercial farming, and few industries. Even if a secular or socialist government had come into power at the time, it did not have the resources to take on this vast project.

Religious orders combined the best of capitalism and communism. With whatever aid they could raise from banks or donors they created the infrastructure. Then by pooling the resources of their communities, and effectively using the free labour of their members, they provided the management and professional skills to operate these institutions.

Their motivation was primarily religious in that they saw their work as serving God. In practice this meant carrying out the corporal and spiritual works of mercy. They were a powerful force for good as they sought, through their mission, to improve the quality of people’s lives.

To achieve what they did required great sacrifice both collectively and individually. Religious congregations had to be run on military lines. Their vows of poverty, chastity and obedience were vital to success. Members had to be willing to live in community and to submit to the wishes of their superiors. (However, there was no hierarchy as positions of authority were rotated every few years). They had to willingly set aside the sexual side of their natures. They had to forgo ambition and individual prosperity. Like soldiers they had to be totally committed to the cause, willing to go where they were needed and to do what was required. Such thinking is foreign to the world we now live in and it is no wonder vocations have dried up in more “advanced” countries.

Nor was their mission confined to Ireland. Over the past 200 years Irish religious congregations set up houses throughout the world, particularly in the English-speaking world. While inspired by their religious convictions and eager to share what they believed to be “the Good News,” they built schools, hospitals, and other socially desired institutions in countries as diverse as Nigeria, Australia and Argentina.

The impression is sometimes given that religious Sisters, in particular, were weak, subservient women who fled from real life by entering Convents. On the contrary, they were often the best of their generation. Many of them were enterprising, adventurous, highly skilled, and authoritative. In secular life they could have been top class professionals, managers, skilled artisans and devoted carers. What motivated them? What inspired them? What sustained them? Clearly, a strong belief in God and the prospect of reward in the next life. However, religious faith is intangible as those who have written about “the dark night of the soul” knew all too well. Perhaps we will never know or understand what kept them going.

Over the years there were failings of personnel and management. These lapses often reflected the ways of the wider society. Some women and children in their care were badly treated by modern standards. Actions were taken, like finding homes for children, that were well intentioned at the time but are unacceptable now. But these failings need to be put in the perspective of the overall good that these religious congregations did. We do not condemn the police, as a force, for the failings of individual members or of management.

The price these men and women paid for entering religious life was high because, like soldiers, they led circumscribed lives. And like soldiers, not everyone was a tribute to the cause. No doubt some should never have entered a convent or monastery. For some parents in rural areas, religious life was a promising way to off-load sons or daughters that could not be provided for otherwise. Some aspirants may have been inspired by strongly held religious beliefs but were entirely unsuited to the confines of community life. Some of them were damaged by the demands of their calling. They became detached or unemotional. Some may have taken out their frustration on those in their care. Having endured the limitations imposed by close, communal living they might occasionally find it hard to cope with the duties imposed on them. All this shows is that they were human, prone to the same failings as the rest of humanity.

Individual failings should not blind us to the enormous success of these institutions. Many people owe both individuals and institutions a debt of gratitude for changing the course of their lives. Unfortunately, good news is seldom reported and bad news gets a disproportionate amount of publicity. This is particularly true where drama or fiction is concerned. Though stories are “based on true life,” incidents can be exaggerated, or villains created, for dramatic impact. The writer, Martin Sixsmith, admitted in an interview that scenes in his film “Philomena” (about a real orphanage) were fictitious though they referred to real people. Goodness makes for poor drama. Much of the literature produced in recent years gives a very distorted picture of religious life.

The treatment of women and children in Ireland from 1800 to 2000 needs to be placed within a greater European context. Many of the failings that have been highlighted in Ireland were common to other countries. Unmarried mothers, orphans and people with mental health problems were often treated more harshly in so called progressive countries like Sweden and Germany. In reality, the fate of women in Ireland during the first half of the 20^th century was so much better than in the fascist countries of Europe or in communist Russia where women suffered the most appalling abuses. The evidence is there for those who choose to see it.

There is a tendency to belittle our ancestors, to see them as deluded, easily led, and cruel. They are being judged from a modern perspective – not in the context of their times. No account is taken of the harsh circumstances of their lives or the prevailing ideologies of the time. Their ways may not be our ways any more but what makes us so superior that we can rain down such harsh judgement on them?

Joe Coy was an English teacher for 40 years and now retired.